The Brothers of Gwynedd (75 page)

Now this matter of the struggle for Gloucester, which we witnessed helplessly from afar in that month of March, best demonstrates the mood and temper of the Lord Edward from that time forth towards his opponents and all those who held with them and comforted them. For in the first week of the month Henry de Montfort, by a daring trick played by two of his confederate barons, who certainly risked their lives in the frolic, captured the city of Gloucester, but not the castle, which was strongly held for the king. For these two young lords got themselves up as woolmongers, and came up to the west gate with bales on their backs to gain entry, and thereupon dropped their loads and showed their arms, and held the gate while Henry marched his men within. But I will not say that the town of Gloucester, as opposed to the guard, was sorry to be so invaded by the armies of the reform, for the evidence is that they gave in very willingly, and suffered for it thereafter.

  But very shortly after this the Lord Edward came with his army, and was privily let into the castle by the garrison, and he had good need to fear when Earl Robert of Derby came scything south from Worcester to join the Montforts. This was when he showed both his wit and his faithlessness. No one knew better than he that Earl Simon's cause was hamstrung by its own goodwill, for the half of its support was bishops and such benevolents, who above all things desired peace and reconciliation, while the other half knew only too well it had no choice but to resist in arms
à
l'outrance.
So at this pass Edward sent piously to the bishop of Worcester, that good man, devoted to the Provisions but also to peace, and so prevailed upon him that he went to Henry de Montfort, who held the town securely, and offered in Edward's name, and clearly in good faith, a truce that should lead on—such was promised under oath—to a permanent peace, if Henry would withdraw from the town with his army.

  The bishop was honest, no question, he offered what he confided in as in the Host. And as in the Host, young Henry received, revered and believed. Edward's word he took, as he would have expected Edward, with better reason, to take his. And he withdrew from the town.

  For his complaisance and gullibility, may God forgive him! For his innocence, honour and purity, may God reward him!

  Edward occupied the town, ravaged it to misery and despair for its forbearance to his enemies, fortified and garrisoned it to the utmost, and swept out of it to join his father at Oxford. No more was ever said of truce or peace.

  May God also deal so with him according to his judgment. I say no more than that. For we know, every man of us, that there will be a judgment, even for princes.

  "I should never have considered his terms," said Earl Simon heavily. "His truth or falsehood would not have been put to the test. Now you have lost me the west, and sent Ferrers fuming back to his own country in a rage, having wasted his capture of Worcester."

  "I own it," said Henry, stricken. For the earl of Derby, an insubordinate and wayward man, had withdrawn from his capture and quit the Severn, marching back in a fury to his own country. "I am at fault, and what I have done cannot be put right now."

  And he submitted without protest to the earl's reproaches, though for my part I could but think how like he was, in his lesser way, to this same proud incorruptible who chastised him, and how justly he could have turned and charged: "You might well have done the same in my place." For there is no remedy against the tricks of the devious for those who are themselves men of honour, and at that very time Earl Simon had consented again to one last attempt at conciliation, through a French nobleman who was in England on King Louis' financial business, and as friend to both parties begged to try what he could do to avert war. And what had young Henry done but consent to the promise of just such an attempt? It was not his fault that Edward's faith was rotten. Moreover, Earl Simon later committed even such acts of generous and high-minded folly himself, and lost by them more than his son had lost for him at Gloucester. A man can act only in accordance with his nature, and the weapons of the tricksters outnumber by far the arms of the honourable.

  But the boy made no complaint, only bowed his head to the storm and set his jaw at the future.

  "I do but scold at my own infirmities," said the earl at length, sighing as be turned to behold himself in the mirror he had made. "You did nothing so ill, though ill came of it." And to me he said: "It will not be so easy now to keep touch with the prince, since the west is out of our hands, nor is he so likely to be needed and drawn in. I cannot answer for what course this year will take, but it seems we are thrust offinto the midlands, and it's there the struggle must come. If your lord would rather that you return to him, I cannot fairly lay claim to you further."

  I wrote therefore to Llewelyn, telling him how matters stood, how the king's host was summoned to Oxford at the end of March, and the earl's forces massing in Northampton, and though the French arbitrator was hard at work trying to bring the parties to discussion with him at Brackley, and both sides had assented to the meeting, there seemed but little chance that anything would come of it. The bishops who spoke for Earl Simon and the reform had offered concessions on all points except the king's right to appoint aliens to his council and offices without reference to the community of the lands but King Henry, though paying lip service to conciliation, would not give way one inch upon this or any other item. I saw no possibility in the end but war, and it seemed that the field of battle had moved into the centre of England, away from the march. Then I sent this despatch by Cadeil, and awaited my orders.

  I had half expected and half wished to be called home, yet I found I was glad when Llewelyn replied that I should continue with Earl Simon, so far as I judged it safe for me, wherever he might go, and still keep as frequent touch as I might with Wales. By this I knew that even if he would not commit his heritage, his heart was committed.

  While the royal army lay at Oxford, the main baronial muster at Northampton, and the hopeful French agent ran back and forth between the two from Brackley, which lies midway along that road, Earl Simon, though still crippled by his injury, which had not knitted well, could rest no longer, but determined to go south to London, which was unswervingly loyal to him. And I went in his retinue, and Cadeil along with me, eager and curious at every mile, for he had never been beyond the march until we came to Kenilworth, and London was a marvel to him. The earl could not ride, but he had had a light, four-wheeled chariot made for him, and in that he rode, driven by one of his grooms, or sometimes driving himself. So we made that journey to London, and again I saw that great citadel they call the Tower, that had such long and grim memories for me. There the justiciar had his headquarters, and there Earl Simon took up residence.

  The whole city had drafted its people into armed bands, under a constable and a marshal, ready to muster whenever the great bell of St. Paul's should be rung to call them out. To tell truth, the results were somewhat disorderly, and before Earl Simon arrived there had been some ill-advised local attacks upon royalist lands, notably on Richard of Cornwall's manor of Isleworth, that did nothing to help the cause of conciliation. When a city as great and populous as London seethes with excitement and stands to in unaccustomed arms, even an Earl Simon may find it difficult to control.

  But as to what happened next, and who first invoked absolute war, and in what circumstances, I tell truth as we knew it. Certain it is that the Frenchman's negotiations, however barren, had not been broken off. For proof, on the second day of April a safe-conduct was issued to Peter de Montfort as baronial envoy, to meet the royal proctors at Brackley, and this safe-conduct was to remain valid until Palm Sunday, which fell on the thirteenth of that month. Yet on the third day of April King Henry suddenly marched his army out of Oxford, taking with him his warstandard, a dragon with a tongue of fire, worked on red samite, and made straight for Northampton at a forced pace, to lay that town under siege.

  The news came to us in the city, and Earl Simon at once set out to relieve the garrison, though we did not fear any disaster, Northampton being so full of trusty levies and so well supplied. The only danger, we thought, was a long siege, which we had the power to break. But we had got no farther than St. Albans when we were met by a messenger on a lathered horse, who croaked out his ill news from a dusty throat beside Earl Simon's chariot.

  "My lord, Northampton has fallen! Your son's made prisoner, and the lord of Beaudesert and his two sons with him, and many another. All taken! By treachery! The town was entered and stormed in the night. By now I doubt the castle has surrendered. There's rapine and murder in the streets for your sake. Another Gloucester!"

  It was so stunning a blow that Earl Simon was knocked out of words and breath, but the greater the disaster that fell upon him, the more quietly and immovably did he rally to resist it; all his furies being spent on things by comparison light. He questioned in few words, and took from the man all that miserable story.

  "My lord, at the priory of St. Andrew, by the north gate, the prior is a Frenchman, and of the king's party. He had the brothers make a breach in the walls of their house, and by night they broke through the last shell of the town wall, and let the king's men in. In the darkness they made their way by parties all about the town, and struck before dawn. It was so sudden we had no chance. The guards were surprised and overwhelmed first, many of us never had time to lay hands on our weapons. Some companies contrived to fight their way out, and will muster as best they can and come south to join you. But Northampton's lost, and many of your best knights with it, and God help the folk in the town, for Edward is taking revenge on them all."

  Earl Simon made no murmur over his loss of son and allies and arms, fronting what seemed almost a mortal blow to his hopes with a granite face. Quietly he ordered the return to London, and back to the Tower we went, and there he took from those who managed to reach us the foil story of the sack of Northampton, and the long list of the prisoners. For several days news came in. The valuable captives were whipped away into the hold of various castles in the marches, to remove them from the immediate hope of rescue. There was now no means of recovering them but by bringing this war to a successful end, for now beyond question this was war.

  "It might be worse," said the earl grimly, when we knew what the king's next moves had been and Edward's. "If I have let my chance be wrested from me, he is throwing his away." For King Henry had moved on to Nottingham, elated by Ms easy success and neglecting to follow it up energetically, while Edward, though displaying energy enough, was tossing it to the winds by careering north to harry the lands of the earl of Derby.

  "He is letting personal hate affect his judgment," said the earl critically.

  While Henry kept Easter in Nottingham, and Edward pursued Robert Ferrers in Derbyshire, Earl Simon turned south. For in France it was certain that the queen and archbishop and the royal clerks were massing soldiers and horses and arms, and sooner or later would try to land them in England. Whoever held the Cinque ports held the narrow seas. And the young earl of Gloucester, Gilbert of Glare, had not been in Northampton, but by reason of the dangerous state of the march was at his Kentish castle at Tonbridge, with a strong force. Between them he and Earl Simon could hope to take the royal castle at Rochester, where was the only substantial royalist force in the south at that time. In the event they took the town, but not the castle keep, and when both Henry and his son came rushing in alarm to raise the siege, Earl Simon pondered briefly whether this was the time and place to stand and fight, and decided against it.